Chapter 7 - The Diagnosis and the Fallout
The emergency room at Metro General smelled of antiseptic and old linoleum. By the time the orthopedic resident finished reviewing my MRI scans, midnight had come and gone.
"Well, Tessa," Dr. Vance said, pulling up the digital images on the lightboard. "You managed to turn a moderate labral tear into a full-blown bucket-handle tear with severe subluxation. The sudden hyper-extension and impact load while your rotator cuff was relaxed completely detached the labrum from the glenoid rim."
"In English?" Caleb asked from the corner chair, where he had been sitting quietly for four hours without taking off his wedding tie.
"Surgery," Dr. Vance said flatly. "Within the week. If we don't anchor it back down, she'll lose permanent range of motion and live with chronic instability."
I stared up at the acoustic ceiling tiles. A sling immobilized my entire right arm against my torso, heavy and constricting. "So... no swimming, then?"
A dry chuckle escaped the doctor. "I'd say swimming is off the table for about six months."
When Caleb drove me back to my apartment building at two in the morning, the city was dead quiet. He carried my overnight bag upstairs, unlocked my front door, and helped me settle onto the sofa with a stack of extra pillows.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked, hovering awkwardly in the center of my small living room. "Water? Pain meds?"
"I'm fine, Caleb. Really. You should go back to the hotel. Or go home."
"I haven't packed a bag for home," he said bitterly. "I left my apartment key at Alder House."
"Where is Lena?"
Caleb walked over to the window, staring out at the rain that had started drumming against the glass. "At her hotel room with your mother. From what I gather, your mother is trying to convince her to write me an apology letter, and Lena is currently throwing high-end luggage against the drywall."
I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes. "She's going to blame me for this for the rest of our lives."
"Let her," Caleb said, turning around. His voice was cold, stripped of all the polite hesitation I had known for three years. "She crossed a line tonight, Tessa. Not just with you—with reality. I stood up there waiting to make a lifetime commitment to someone, and the very moment things went sideways, I watched her try to gaslight two hundred people into thinking she was the victim of your gravity."
May you like
He walked over, kneeling beside the sofa so we were at eye level.
"I can't marry someone like that," he said softly. "I'm sorry it happened at our wedding. I'm sorry it happened to you. But I'm glad I saw it before we signed the papers."
